


Coffee Shop Poetry

by Aldersmoke



Category: South Park
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aldersmoke/pseuds/Aldersmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweek is used to working the late shift at his parents coffee shop and therefor, he doesn't see a lot of people. However one night someone he doesn't usually see, and hasn't talked to in a very long time decided to stop in. What he figures is a fluke becomes a regular thing and a new friendship is formed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Shop Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by a drawing by wallofdoodles on tumblr, originally I'd only planned to make it a small drabble but it kind of just clicked with my brain and turned into a larger piece. I'm decently happy with it since I almost never write. I really hope you enjoy it! (I may do a piece of Tweek giving Craig his poem but no promises)
> 
> Drawing that inspired this: http://wallofdoodles.tumblr.com/post/142060496594

It was a late autumn night at South Park and the whole town was mostly silent. Few shops were open so late at this time of night, especially on a Thursday, but it was pretty standard for Tweek Bros Coffee. A wild haired blonde was inside, cleaning the front counter with a damp cloth. He didn't really understand to this day why his parents insisted on keeping the store open so late (because really, who came in at eleven o'clock at night for some coffee) but it was quiet and he enjoyed the silence of working so late. Sleep did not come easily for him anyway, even on a school night there was little harm in it.

However tonight surprised him as he heard the small jingle of the front door opening and he jumped lightly, nearly throwing the rag across the room. Upon looking at the person who entered, he realized it was one of the goth kids, Pete he thinks his name is. It's honestly been a while since he paid them much attention and they probably hadn't had a real conversation since everyone played that stupid Stick of Truth game together. (If he could even consider that a conversation.) Tweek then realizes he's been spacing out a little bit too long and remembers that he's at work.

“O-Oh hello! Welcome to Tweek Bros c-coffee, what c-can I get you?” he asks, only twitching ever so slightly. Over the years his twitching had calmed a lot, probably due to the fact that his parents had to stop putting meth in their coffee, but he still had a bit of a stutter no matter what.

Pete quietly slid into one of the stools at the front counter, he looked even more depressed than usual, Tweek wasn't even aware that was possible. “Just a medium black coffee, I don't care what blend,” he told him curtly.

Tweek was normally supposed to ask if that was for here or to go but Pete definitely didn't look like he'd be going anywhere so he simply slipped over to the machines to start up a pot. He decided to just pick one of his person favorites, it was a pretty strong brew but it seemed most fitting for this occasion. While waiting, Tweek looked over at Pete again and had an internal debate on if he should ask the goth what was wrong. The guy had always made him a little nervous and now was no exception, but he was still pretty sure the guy wouldn't kill him for asking. If he did try, Tweek always carried some pepper spray in the front pocket of his apron (a gift from Craig, he'd been giving them to him every year now for the past five years).

It was then he realized he'd been staring at him for at least a minute too long and Pete raised an eyebrow at him. It kind of reminded him of Craig in that, he didn't show too much emotion on his face, but sometime it was the little things. “S-Sorry, I was just...Y-You looked...Did s-something happen? I never s-see you in here,” Tweek eventually squeaked out.

For a moment he expected Pete to tell him off, his eyebrows had creased ever so slightly, but slowly his face moved to look more defeated than anything else. “Henrietta broke up with me, I think she decided she wanted to be with Mike instead,” he said, followed by a sigh.

Ah, so that's what it was, a break up. The only relationship Tweek has ever had was his fake one with Craig back in elementary school, but he'd heard Clyde whine about more than a few break ups and even Token once. “I'm s-sorry...how l-long were you t-two together?” he asked. He noticed the coffee was just about done and so he prepared a cup.

“Three years, we started dating freshman year...but I guess this year she decided she wanted to start the year off fresh or some shit,” Pete said. “Said that she was just kind of falling out of love or whatever, and then had to rub it in that she thought my poems were actually kind of shitty...”

“That's p-pretty rude, I'm s-sorry,” Tweek replied with. He realizes that he had already said sorry once but it's not like he was good at comforting people, topping off with the fact he barely knew the dude. Thankfully thought the coffee was done now and so he poured a cup and slid it over to Pete.

“Thanks...What do I owe you?” he asked, taking a long drink from the cup.

Owe him? Oh right, the coffee, how could he forget. “It's uh, t-two dollars.” With that Pete digs in his wallet and passes two one dollar bills to Tweek across the counter top, which Tweek takes and puts into the register. He grabs himself a cup of coffee as well and continues his job of cleaning the other counters. He has a nagging feeling he should say something else to Pete though, the guy just looks so pathetic at that moment.

“I'm s-sure your poetry d-doesn't suck”, he says quietly, not even sure if Pete hears him.

Pete, who had been lifting the cup up to his lips pauses briefly before taking a drink of the coffee, but in the end he chooses not to reply. They both keep quiet after that, Tweek keeps working while Pete finishes his cup. Him sliding off the stool alerts Tweek to the fact that he's leaving.

“T-Thanks for stopping by,” he says as he would to any regular customer, trying to put on a small smile. Pete hands him the cup and he takes it, turning around to set it where the other dirty cups are. He hears the bell on the door jingle, which means he's alone in the shop again. Looking at the clock, Tweek realizes that Pete had been here for two hours as it's now a little bit past one in the morning.

His shift should be ending within the next hour, so he figures it won't hurt to count the money early (because what were the chances of having another late night customer). He stops when he realizes there is a folded up bill in the tip jar, which wasn't there before. Pulling it out, he sees that it's a five dollar bill, which is an awful lot for a two dollar coffee, but it makes Tweek smile slightly. Maybe he made him feel at least a little bit better.

\--------------------------------

The next night being a Friday meant that it would be a little bit more busy, but not by much. Sometimes Tweek had to deal with drunks coming inside or loitering out front, but he had his pepper spray in case of emergencies at the very least. He was still glad he didn't work most Friday nights.

Tweek served a good number of people up until about nine o'clock when it started to die down. By ten, there was no one coming into the shop, it was even clear of the drunks so far, which he was more than grateful for. But like last night, around eleven he heard the bell on the door chime, though he didn't jump this time.

“Welcome t-to Tweek Bros coffee, w-what can I g-get you?” Tweek asks before he even turns around to see who walked in.

Pete made way for the same stool he sat in the night before, though this time he appeared to be holding a notebook in his hand. He set it down softly on the counter top before looking up at Tweek.

“Medium black coffee, something a little less strong than last night,” he almost demands.

It takes Tweek a little bit longer than last night to pick out a different blend, but he indeed goes for something a little more mild than the previous one he has chosen. By the time he's got the machine set up and turning back to look at Pete, the notebook has been opened and the goth appears to be writing something rather lengthy.

Tweek isn't feeling as brave as he was last night as the whole day had been rather rough on him (class presentations were definitely not his favorite thing) but in the end, he didn't have to ask.

“Maybe it's too much to ask but can you read this over when I'm done? I uh...was kind of a douche to Henrietta yesterday before I came into the shop so I thought that I should apologize,” Pete asks, looked up at Tweek.

“S-Sure, if y-you really feel t-that comfortable w-with a stranger r-reading it,” he replies, looking a little shocked at Pete's request.

“It's not like we've never talked before Tweek, but I guess it's been a while,” he says, his gaze returning to the paper.

Tweek would have been shocked about the goth knowing his name but he remembers that he is after all, wearing a name tag. Part of him kind of hopes that he remembered on his own though. “Y-Yeah, not since w-we battled the elves f-for the Stick of T-Truth,” he says with a small airy laugh.

Pete just nods as he continues his writing. After a few more minutes Tweek is quietly setting down a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. He's about to turn back to his station, this time to take inventory, when Pete speaks up again. “Hey could you leave the pot? This will be a while.”

“S-Sure dude,” Tweek says quietly. Doing as requested, he sets the pot down next to Pete, but far enough out of the way that he shouldn't accidentally spill it. Things are quiet for a long while after that, it isn't until nearly fifteen minutes till closing that Pete speaks again.

“I uh, think I'm done if you're still cool with reading this, and let me know what I owe you for the coffee,” he says, slowly turning the notebook around so Tweek can grab it.

“Just two dollars again, don't worry about the extra, I would have just had to drink it by myself anyway,” he tells him. Tweek then grabs the notebook and leans again the wall while he reads it. Some of it doesn't make much sense to him, Pete's writing is kind of archaic sounding and it's not like he really knows the situation. Despite all that though, he can sense the emotion put into the words, it makes sense to him why he had looked so depressed when he came in last night.

By the time he's done reading it, he sees that Pete has laid out two dollars for him to take and so he exchanges that with the notebook before putting the money in the till. “I t-think it sounds n-nice. I don't r-really get some of w-what's going on but y-you sound sincere at l-least,” he tells him. “You're g-good at putting e-emotions down on p-paper.”

Pete takes the notebook back, closing it. At first he looks like he wants to brush off the compliment but he mutters a thanks before sliding off the stool. With that he leaves the store and Tweek realizes he still has a few things to do before closing up the store. Again, he finds a five dollar bill in the tip jar that is he is pretty sure wasn't there before.

\--------------------------------

Tweek doesn't have to work on the weekend thankfully, it gives him time to relax and spend time with his friends. But it does leave him lingering on the thought of how things went with Pete, it was all very strange that he was talking to him, but he can't say it was unwanted. He's still by far a lot nicer and less weird than some of the customers he's gotten, and it was better than dealing with a Friday night drunk.

He thought about mentioning it to the others, or at least Craig, but in the end it would have felt like gossiping and so he decides against it.

Surely that was the last he'd see of Pete anyway, right?

By Monday night, around eleven again, he finds that he was wrong. Pete shows up again, sliding into the same stool as before and again with a notebook. Thought if it really matters, it's a different notebook this time.

Tweek is so surprised that he forgets to great him, but that's okay because Pete seems to have already decided to tell him what he wants without being prompted. “Medium black coffee, something different this time,” he requests.

The coffee machine is started after Tweek picks out something different from the last two brews he had picked. Again, Pete has his notebook open and he's writing.

“S-So um...how d-did things g-go?” Tweek decides to ask, feeling like he's being way too bold and it fills him with immediate panic.

However Pete seems unfazed by the question, like he expected it maybe. “We're cool now but she still doesn't want to be dating so...whatever I guess,” he says. Tweek could tell by the tone of his voice that it was anything but whatever, however he doesn't call him out on it.

“I-It sucks when y-you like someone and t-they don't feel the s-same,” Tweek eventually says while he pours coffee into a mug. He slides it down next to Pete, but time he just kind of lingers beside the counter. It's a light work night and there's very little to clean.

He thinks it surprises Pete but it was hard to tell with his hair hiding part of his face. “Is that why you and Craig broke up?” he asks.

Tweek's face flushes red. “Um n-no, we broke up b-because the town s-stopped being PC...I didn't r-realize my feelings for him t-till later.” Shit did he just say that out loud? He'd been so great and keeping that a secret, he hadn't told anyone about it. Now here he is, just pouring that out to someone he has hardly spoken with in years.

Pete speaking again breaks out him out of his panicked thoughts, “That sucks.” It was simple and blunt but he also realized that Pete was unlikely to really tell anyone about it anyway. He wasn't even the gossip type.

“Yeah...t-though I haven't um...really told him? It's too m-much pressure, he'd p-probably hate m-me,” Tweek rambles, he reaches to pull at his hair but the fact that he has it pulled back makes him stop.

“Have you thought of maybe writing him a poem or something? That's...how I asked Henrietta out,” Pete replies, sounding a little sad at recalling the memory.

“Gah! I can't write, plus that's still so much pressure!” Tweek exclaims, looking more embarrassed by the minute. He decides to wander back over to the coffee machine and pour himself a cup as well. He nearly spills some of it, realizing how bad he's started shaking again. Damn, this is one of the subjects that makes him feel like this again.

Pete flips his hair out of his face and looks up at Tweek struggling with his coffee. “Look I could probably like, help teach you if you really wanted, I'll bring my other notebooks next time,” he says calmly. It doesn't seem to phase him much that Tweek is so twitchy.

“W-Why do you want to h-help me?” Tweek asks, shakily drinking from his own mug. While he now realizes and (for the most part) that Pete isn't a serial killer, he's not sure he should trust him to help with something like this.

“Well for one, despite the fact that you're not a goth, you're still clearly not a conformist, I like that about people. But you also did help me with my note, so I can help with this,” Pete tells him as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Tweek doesn't really get this whole conformist business, he never really has, but he guesses that it must be a compliment and it helps ease him just a little bit. He's still not sure he wants to write something for Craig but he thinks maybe Pete is more excited about teaching poetry to someone more than he wants to admit, so he agrees.

“Gah, a-alright. I w-work tomorrow night too s-so I'll b-be here,” he informs the goth.

His eyes brightened just ever so slightly at the news. “Cool, anyway I gotta go.” He leaves two dollars on the table for the coffee as per usual, picks up his stuff and leaves. Tweek isn't sure how or when he left the tip in the jar with him watching Pete the entire time. (He wonders to himself if maybe Pete is also a magician because he's goth, perhaps he'll question him about it later)

\--------------------------------

Pete arrived just as he said he would, at his usual time, though this time he had at least three notebooks that he set down on the counter when he sat down. Once again his order consisted of a medium black coffee, leaving the blend up to Tweek to decide. He went with something that he also felt like drinking, since he felt it would be a long night.

They didn't actually idely chat very much, Pete seemed to have used sticky notes to bookmark a few poems per notebook, which he spent time reading outloud to Tweek. A lot of his older poems were very dark and depressing, almost second hand cringy at how try hard they sounded. But it was clear that over time, Pete was writing with all of his emotions in mind and not just sadness and anger.

These weren't like the poems that kids shat out in his ninth grade English class because they were forced to write them, there was a lot of thought put into the words Pete had written. Tweek had never considered himself a fan of poetry before this, but he had to admit that this was nice.

After about an hour and a half, Pete had finished all of his bookmarked poems and so he closed the last notebook with a sigh. “So I guess like, that's about it. There's rules that teachers will tell you to follow with poetry and there kind is but like, why conform to a set of rules when you can write what sounds good to you,” he tells Tweek. “If you still wanna try this, maybe write some practice stuff and I'll look it over.”

Tweek was really unsure about things when he agreed to the idea, but after hearing Pete's poetry, he decides it might be fun to try it out. It'll be a bit like the painting he does in his spare time, just...with words. Okay so it's not really the same he realizes, but it's another form of art. Maybe it'll have the same calming affect on his as painting.

“I-I guess I can w-write something during free p-period tomorrow. I uh, work t-tomorrow and Thursday so, w-whenever you're free I g-guess,” Tweek says, looking nervous. It is pretty intimidating to know he'll have someone looking at his poetry (Craig is really the only one that sees his art and that's only some of the time) but he'll give it a try.

“Cool,” is all Pete says in response. He's actually looking tired for once as he packs up to leave, Tweek guesses that reading poetry for over an hour can do that to someone. This time he actually waves to Tweek as he leaves. This time he doesn't leave a tip, but that's okay because Tweek thinks that his poetry lessons and maybe possible friendship are worth more to him than money.

\--------------------------------

After that point, Pete continued to hang out around the small coffee shop for the next few weeks. He'd show up around eleven, often with a notebook or two in hand. Still he'd continue having Tweek change the blend of coffee each time he was in, thought eventually he did run out of new blends and so Tweek would just pick a random one. Pete never really seemed to complain about any of them, as long as it was just black coffee, he was fine.

Tweek had gone from writing a poem or two during his free period to writing them frequently, even during his classes and at home. Sometimes he'd paint something to go with a poem. At first it was clear that he didn't know what he was doing, and Pete told him as much. Tweek liked that he was honest and didn't try to baby him like some people did, but he also wasn't as brutal as one would expect. It was clear how much he loved poetry and that he didn't want to push so hard on Tweek that it would make him give up on it.

This new friendship was strange, but Tweek really appreciated it. At school they wouldn't really talk or hang out, but his other friends had noticed both how he was writing poetry suddenly and that the two would at least greet each other in the hallways now. Token was the one to question him about it and it was a little awkward explaining it to them but they seemed to just shrug it off as the usual odd Tweek behavior. Craig looked more offended than he expected at the fact that Tweek wasn't howing him the poetry, but Tweek promised that he would soon.

It wasn't a lie really, after the past few weeks of what he would call practice, he talked to Pete about writing the poem to give to Craig. He was still nervous, and the thought still made him shake more than he would on any usual given day. Still, he felt a lot more confident trying to tell Craig this way than if he had tried to actually say it. Writing things down meant he didn't have to worry about stuttering or twitching.

He spent a whole weekend working on the poem on and off between his schoolwork and chores, by Monday night he decided he was finished with it and just as Pete got in the shop and sat down, he passed it to him to read it over. Pete read it as he sipped at his coffee. “Gotta admit, you did better than I expected. This would have like, even me swooning if it was for me,” he told Tweek. That made Tweek's face light up like a Christmas tree.

“I-It's been really n-nice having you h-hang around you know. It k-kind of sucked b-being here alone a-at night. And poetry is a l-lot more fun t-than Mr. Garrison m-made it out t-to be,” he says, still smiling.

Pete actually graced Tweek with a small smile back. He didn't say anything back but he didn't really have to, Tweek knew that the two were friends and that Pete probably appreciated the friendship and company too. While the both had their respective friend groups, it was nice to have someone else to confide in when they couldn't speak with the others. It was a weird friendship that worked really well.

\--------------------------------

It was a quiet Thursday night, though this time it was nearing on winter which made it feel even more silent than it did for any other season. It also meant that Tweek Bros got a few more nightly customers because of the fact that they sold hot chocolate and other warming seasonal drinks that people took comfort in during the cold.

However there was still no one there when Pete walked in at his usual time and Tweek is grateful for that because of the news he had. After Pete had sat down and Tweek had gotten him his coffee (which at this point, Tweek had started brewing before the goth had gotten to the shop), he turned to him with an excited look on his face.

“So a-all this work w-wasn't in vain. C-Craig said he f-feels the same w-way,” he said, smiling and his eyes sparkled in the low light of the shop.

“Good, I would have been pretty pissed if he like, abandoned you or some shit,” Pete says. To the average person, he probably sounded harsh for news like that, but Tweek could tell he was just keeping his excitement low key.

Tweek just chuckles lightly and gets back to cleaning the counter tops of the shop. “Maybe this means I'll have to teach you to paint to give to whoever it is that you're crushing on but won't tell me about,” he says.

“Yeah, I guess that would only be fair,” he says, flipping his hair.

The spend the rest of the evening taking turns reciting some of their own poems to each other like they often do on the calmer evenings. Pete leaves knowing that next time he'll be learning how to paint and hoping that it works out for him and Michael like it has for Tweek and Craig. Tweek closes up the shop feeling truly very calm and excited about how his life has changed recently.


End file.
